Ultraviolence
by berub
Summary: I fell, more from being frightened than from him hitting me. As I looked up at him, I saw tears running down his face. "I'm a monster." He whispered as he backed away to the wall. "You should leave and never come back." - a songfic about an abusive relationship -


A/N: After I've first heard the song Ultraviolence, I always wanted to make it into a story, I actually had the lyrics on my laptop for months in a document, waiting to be turned into something more. That's what I ended up with, I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

 _He used to call me DN_

 _That stood for deadly nightshade_

 _Cause I was filled with poison_

 _But blessed with beauty and rage_

"What are you drinking, love?" A deep voice with a beautiful accent rang up next to me.

Any other night, I probably would have wanted to take a look at him to see if his looks lived up to his accent. But tonight I only wanted to be alone and so wasted that I could finally stop thinking.

"The tears and blood of men who don't know when to stay away." I said without looking at him.

"That sounds delicious. Can I join you for another glass of that?" He asked in a cheery tone.

I breathed a deep sigh. He's one of those guys that take at least five minutes and five different ways of saying no to get rid of. I looked up at him. He did look pretty good. For a second, I considered giving him a chance, but no. I wasn't there to meet cute guys.

"I would prefer to drink by myself until I throw up in the bathroom, and then call a cab and go home alone." I told him dryly, and hoped that the part about puking disgusted him enough to leave.

It didn't. He sat down on the barstool next to me and waved to the bartender.

"A scotch neat, please, and a rum and coke for the lady." He said pulling out a few bills from his wallet. The bartender placed two napkins and our drinks in front of us, took the money, and left.

"You don't understand no until they spell it out for you, huh?" I asked tiredly.

"Yes, but that's not the case tonight. I can see that you desperately want to be alone and I know as a fact that even though you might think that's what you need right now, it's not."

"What do I need then, oh, Knower of Everything? Some annoying guy with a lame British accent giving me lectures about myself?" I looked at him, but my voice was not as malicious as before. I actually started to give up some of my barriers.

"No, you need a hot British guy telling you that you are the most beautiful girl he's ever seen." He said in a funny voice, and I almost spit out my drink from giggling.

"That must be the lamest pickup line I've heard tonight, and that's huge, since I've been asked if I fell from heaven." I chuckled. He laughed, too. "You probably think I'm here moping about a boy who fucked me over, and I need some reassurance that I'm worth more than that." I announced, and he didn't deny it.

"Okay, then why are you _really_ moping?"

"I'm not moping. I just came here to forget that I've got fired today." I lied with a smile. "But I lost my appetite." I said with a sour face, grabbed my bag, and started to stand up. If I have to buy a bottle of vodka and go home to be left alone, I better do it before all the liquor stores close up.

He grabbed my wrist. It wasn't hurtful, but I didn't like his touch on me.

"At least go out with me sometime."

"I'll call you." I told him mockingly, and tried to turn away. He didn't let me.

"Sweetheart." He smiled at me. His look said: "Don't be so childish." I wanted nothing more than to be childish.

"You have exactly five seconds to let go of my arm before I start screaming." I announced in a very serious tone, and he let me go immediately. "If you can get my phone number, I will go out with you."

I left without looking back.

* * *

 _He told me that_

 _He hit me and it felt like a kiss_

 _He brought me back_

 _Reminded me of when we were kids_

"Leave." He growled at me as soon as I stepped into his studio.

"No." I told him firmly. "I understand you have a hard time, but I want to be here for you. You told me once that one might think that what they need is to be alone at times like this, but it's not."

He hadn't turned around, I could only see his back, but I still saw how it was hard for him to even breathe. I closed the door behind me and stepped closer. I tried touching his back slowly.

"I love –

"I told you to fucking leave!" He shouted at me, and he slapped me on my face as he turned around.

I fell, more from being frightened than from him hitting me. As I looked up at him, I saw tears running down his face.

"I'm a monster." He whispered as he backed away to the wall. "You should leave and never come back."

"No." I said. I saw the pained look in his eyes as he heard my shaking voice. "I'm not leaving you. Not when you're hurting yourself more than you could ever hurt me."

He let out a sob. Then another one. By the time I reached him, he was sitting with his back on the wall, and he was crying with everything in him. Atlas defeated.

I sat down next to him and pulled his face to my chest.

"Shhh." I hushed him. "It's okay."

"It's not okay." He muttered to my now wet shirt. "Nothing is okay. Everything is wrong. I feel like… I feel like the sky has broken, and everything that it held has rained down on me. I –

"It's okay. It's going to go away." I told him, because that was the truth. He had episodes like this before.

He only talked to me about it once. We were lying in bed, and it seemed like we spent hours just watching each other. I never felt so content in my life. Then he broke the silence.

"My father had abused me. He used to tell me no one could ever love a mutt like me." When I looked at him with tears in my eyes, he added: "I know you were wondering about my episodes and about the scars on my back and my chest. I just thought you should know."

He held me the whole night as I cried.

I saw his episodes a dozen times. But he never hit me before. I was too afraid to think about what that meant.

* * *

 _With his ultraviolence_

 _Ultraviolence_

 _Ultraviolence_

 _Ultraviolence_

"Go." He said, holding my wrist too hard. I hated when he did that, because that would leave a mark that I had to hide very carefully.

"No." I stood my ground. He needed me. He always needed me. If I let him go after he hit me, the guilt would destroy him. And if I let him go before he hit me, the memories of his father would destroy him. I couldn't let him go. He needed me to survive, and I needed him to survive for me.

"I said go!" He pushed me to the ground. My elbows were probably bleeding already as they were rubbed against the wooden floor. I looked at his painting in the corner. It was fresh. It was a field filled with screaming red blood and quite white bones, and a burning sun was above them, about to explode.

I couldn't leave him like this.

"No!"

* * *

 _I can hear sirens, sirens_

 _He hit me and it felt like a kiss_

 _I can hear violins, violins_

 _Give me all of that ultraviolence_

"You have to leave me, sweetheart." He said with a very sad smile one evening. "If you don't, it will destroy you." He didn't say, but we both knew he meant _he_ would destroy me.

"I'd rather have you destroy me than yourself." I told him with a sigh. We've been here many times before. He told me, begged me, yelled at me, commanded me to leave him. My answer didn't change.

"I'm not going to lie to you, love." He went on. "I'm not going to tell you that I will go and get help, and be better for you, because I tried that before, and nothing changed. I can't be healed. I can't be complete again."

"I don't want you to be complete, I love you like this." I felt bad. We promised each other we would never lie, and for the first time, I broke that promise. I did love him broken, but I wanted him to be complete. It was starting to get harder and harder to hide the bruises, and he would hurt me more and more. He was right. One day, he would destroy me.

But I still couldn't leave him. This relationship was going to kill one of us, and I couldn't let it be him.

* * *

 _He used to call me poison_

 _Like I was poison ivy_

"I'm going to be honest; I'm quite curious how you managed to get my phone number." I told him after we gave our orders to the waiter.

"I will tell you if you let me take you on the date I wanted you to, instead of this lame lunch." Really?

"First of all, a lunch is only lame if the people who are having it are lame. Second of all, you have exactly…" I took a look at my watch. "…39 minutes to convince me to go to that fancy date of yours, before I have to get back to work."

"I thought you got fired." He deadpanned.

"I did!" I said quickly. I didn't want to spend the next half an hour talking about why I was there that night. "My friend got me this new job. And you have 37 minutes."

"All right, all right. Not my business, I get it." He smiled with a wicked smile, but I was grateful he understood not to push it. "Then tell me, sweetheart, did you fall from heaven?"

I couldn't help it, I laughed.

* * *

 _I could have died right there_

 _Cause he was right beside me_

"What are you doing?" I mumbled into my pillow.

"I wanted to paint you." He said in a dreamy tone. "But then I decided I couldn't do you justice. There's no way to duplicate your beauty. So I decided to paint on you instead."

My back was wet and ticklish. The sun was shining through the window since we forgot to close the drapes last night. I turned my head back and looked at him. He was so beautiful I could have died right there. He had some green paint smeared across his chin, and he had the most brilliant smile on his face as he looked at me.

"What did you paint on me?" I asked quietly.

"A forest in the sunset is on your lower back. You have black roses on both of your shoulder blades. And right here…" He stroked my spine with his fingers. "It says 'I love you'."

It was the first time he said it.

"I love you, too." I whispered.

* * *

 _He raised me up_

 _He hurt me but it felt like true love_

 _He taught me that_

 _Loving him was never enough_

"No!" He screamed at me as my mouth started bleeding.

He fell on his knees beside me, he pulled me in his arms, and he was rocking on his heels.

"I love you too much to leave you, and I can't get you to leave me, but love, we can't keep doing this. Every time I hurt you, it kills me a little more." He cried into my hair.

"I love you, too." I said in a dry tone. I never cried anymore. He didn't hurt me that bad this time. It was only bruised lips. I can even blame it on some rough kissing. "And I need you just as much as you need me, so stop telling me to leave. If you need to hit me to get yourself back, then I will always be your punching bag."

The last sentence sounded cynical. I didn't want it to sound like that, but after I heard myself saying it, I wondered if I meant it sarcastically. Maybe I did.

He started to stand up, and he lifted me in his arms. He brought me to our bed, lay me down on it, and then he climbed on, too.

He pulled me to his chest, then pulled the covers over us. I looked up at him, and he kissed me with everything he had. I kissed him back with my heart in his chest.

I realized I didn't mean in sarcastically. I was so in love with him I could spend my life being his punching bag.

And it wasn't his fault. His father left scars on his soul way worse than his body. But those were the ones I could heal. He didn't hit me hard tonight. He lifted his hand, he aimed, then he wanted to stop, it was just too late for that, but it was not a real slap. I was healing him. He will get better and we will be so happy that it would be disgusting to look at us. Just watch me.

* * *

 _We could go back to New York_

 _Loving you was really hard_

"I'm not having seafood." He told me again with a pout on his lips.

"Yes, you will, because you love me, and you want me to enjoy our date." I grinned at him, and then pulled him towards the restaurant that served the best seafood in New York.

"I took you to a Broadway play even though I hate musicals. Doesn't it show clearly enough how much I love you?"

"Yes, it does, but I wouldn't mind a little more reassurance." I kissed him quickly on the lips, and then kept dragging him. "Don't be so childish! I eat my lobster, we go to see the Times Square at night, and then we make love until morning because this city never sleeps, or so I've heard."

He gave in with a sigh, but he smiled.

"I wonder if there's anything in the world I wouldn't do for you."

I didn't want to spoil the mood, so I didn't tell him the first thing that came to my mind. I loved him, and we were going to have a beautiful night together, that's all that mattered.

* * *

 _We could go back to Woodstock_

 _Where they don't know who we are_

"For a few bucks, the bartender told me he saw you there with a guy in a Wolves football jacket a few weeks before that night. I went to your high school library and looked up every yearbook that you could be in. I've found you in one – that cheerleader dress was bloody amazing by the way – so I had your name. I looked up your home number in a phone book, then called your mother, told her I'm from your insurance company and that I have to check some details with you, and she gave me your number." He confessed on our fourth date. I was absolutely impressed he went through all that trouble just to go out with me.

"My mother was diagnosed with cancer that day."

He held me the whole night as I cried.

* * *

 _Heaven is on earth_

 _I will do anything for you, babe_

 _Blessed is this, this union_

 _Crying tears of gold, like lemonade_

"Come on, catch me if you can!" I shouted at him laughing while I was running towards the sea. "Don't be such a grown up, catch me!"

I reached the water, but kept running. Soon enough, I felt his arms around me, pulling me under the water.

I came up for air, and he was looking at me with a mocking smile.

"If I get stung by a jellyfish, you will get much more than that." He promised me.

I grinned, and then I splattered some water into his face. "I got it, Mr. Grumpypants, but I examined the whole beach, and this part is perfectly clear of any jellyfish that could harm you. And anyway, wouldn't it be a total turn on to have me pee on you?"

He made a horrified grimace. "No?!"

"Oh, damn it. I was hoping you were into that."

He laughed before he kissed me. Our teeth clashed since I was giggling, too, and I was barely able to take a quick breath before he pulled me under the water once again.

* * *

 _I love you the first time_

 _I love you the last time_

 _Yo soy la princesa, comprende mis white lines_

 _Cause I'm your jazz singer_

 _And you're my cult leader_

 _I love you forever,_

 _I love you forever_

I almost spat my rum and coke as I heard my name. "… is our next singer, and she's going to sing Blue Jeans by Lana Del Rey."

"You did not!" I looked at him furiously as he just grinned cheekily.

"It kind of seems like I did." He got up and shouted. "She's here, she's just having a little stage fright."

My cheeks went crimson red as I stood up, too. I'm not one to back down from a challenge; I would have just preferred some time to get used to the idea.

"And you had to choose that song, too." I hissed at him as I went around our table.

"You have something beautiful, love, it's time for you to share it with the world."

I climbed up on stage. I nodded my head to the guy who called my name, and the music started. I looked at him the whole time. He had to choose this song.

I have to admit, it was wonderful to have a crowd cheer and clap for me as the song ended.

I will love you till the end of time, I sang to him, knowing it's the truth.

* * *

 _With his ultraviolence_

 _(lay me down tonight)_

 _Ultraviolence_

 _(in my linen and curls)_

 _Ultraviolence_

 _(lay me down tonight)_

 _Ultraviolence_

 _(Riviera girls)_

 _I can hear sirens, sirens,_

 _He hit me and it felt like a kiss_

 _I can hear violins, violins_

 _Give me all of that ultraviolence_

"Don't touch me!" I scream at him as he starts to get up from the corner.

I want nothing more than to leave this place, but I can't move from the pain. He knows he went too far, I can see it on his face. Tonight, he killed our relationship. He killed both of us.

"It's finally it, huh?" He asks with his broken heart in every word. "You finally realized you have to leave me." Even through all they pain in his voice, I can hear that he's a little happy about that.

"Call an ambulance." I croak. "I think I have a broken rib."

He doesn't say anything; he just does what I asked him to.

"Tell them it was me." He begs after he hangs up. "Maybe they would lock me up and this would all be over."

I stay quite. I consider what he said, but I know deep down that I could never do that. I'm just going to tell them that the drawer he pushed on me fell on me accidentally because I wanted to reach something on top of it. I'm going to tell them that he could never hurt me on purpose, and I will try to believe it's a lie.

I can hear the sirens, and I know it will be over soon. And nothing will be the same. It can't.

As they roll me out on the stretcher, I can actually believe I would never come back.

* * *

A/N: PLEASE READ BEFORE REVIEW! I want to make it clear, that **the relationship displayed above is absolutely not healthy, nor something to romanticize**! It's very poisoning and if you ever get the feeling you could get into a similar situation, you should get out of it immediately. I just wanted to show that sometimes leaving is not easy, especially if the victim doesn't want to blame the abuser. I know a thing or two about abusing relationships, and I feel like many people can't imagine why one would stay in them. I wanted to show a situation I saw happening.

I also made sure to use a not chronological order and not to add dates to the parts. I don't want people to be able to put it in order, thinking they found what lead to what. I don't want it to make sense. I started with their first meeting, I finished in Present tense, and everything in between is a puzzle that isn't to be solved.

And last but not least: English is obviously not my first language, so if you find any errors, please message me. If you betad this story, I would be even happier.


End file.
